Bad Boys are More Fun
by Cheeseball417
Summary: Ten years after the war and Hermione and her husband are telling their children their story of how their schedules forced them into an uncomfortable friendship that might just save them both.
1. Chapter 1

"Mom! Mom! Mommy! Mom!" The rapid soprano penetrated the blissful silence of the bedroom. Draco tightened his hold around me and pulled me closer to his chest as the door flew open.

"If we're quiet and don't move-" his breath tickled my ear. Something launched itself onto the bed and the sound of unsure toddling appeared, "Maybe they'll go away." He grumbled.

"Draco!" I swatted at my husband of ten years while shifting with much difficulty due to my swollen belly into a sitting position, Draco soon following with a grumbled "They won't leave if you acknowledge them" under his breath.

"Mommy!" The young girl crawled over her father's stomach, earning a pained groan from Draco, to reach me.

"Hi baby." I smiled into my daughter's curly blonde hair, pressing a light kiss to her forehead.

"Emma, be careful of your mum's stomach. Wouldn't want to squish your newest siblings." No, Draco didn't misspeak. In less than two months we would be having twins. "Emma, love, did you let your brother out? I thought I-" she was nodding vigorously, "You need to watch him, Em, he's not very steady yet."

Draco swung himself out of bed, scratching his bare, flat stomach, and went off to find their one-and-a-half-year-old son. "Yay! He's gone!" I laughed at my five-year-old's innocent sarcasm, lifting the covers for the younger girl to climb in. She snuggled into my shoulder, not wanting her brother to claim the space next to her and separate us as he often did. Her round, brown eyes - doe eyes as Draco so affectionately termed them when she was born– and her mass of curly blonde hair was all that was visible when the two Malfoy boys appeared in the doorway.

"He was trying to get into the play room." Draco rolled his eyes at his son and placed him on the bed, quickly following him down.

We had moved into the Manor upon getting married and had converted it into a much more family-friendly house. For example, the dungeons were now refurnished into an in-law apartment with access to a small private for Narcissa once her husband had passed. There were still house elves, but now they were treated with much more dignity and even had vacations, though they were only once every five years for that was all I could negotiate with the elves. Also, part of the gardens had been removed in order to make room for a small play scape that was visible from nearly all south-facing windows.

"Haby Hogwarts Day, Mommy." The little boy crawled almost on top of his older sister, pushing her out of the way as was anticipated.

"Happy Hogwarts Day to you too, Scorpius." I pulled both my children in and kissed each on the forehead.

"Tell us the stowy!" Scorpius's lisp became more noticeable when he got over excited.

"Ok, but we need to be quick. Everyone needs to be dressed to go to the castle at ten."

"Which leaves us several hours." Draco smirked, earning a swat from both his wife and daughter.

"So Ten years ago to this day, there was a giant battle at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The real battle, however started years and years before, but I will begin my story in 1996, the year your father and I" I shot the man a playful look, "Finally began to get along. Now your father and I were never the best of friends, we were basically enemies…"


	2. Chapter 2

"Harry!" I yelled upon seeing my childhood friend enter the Great Hall, an hour late for the Opening Feast, covered in blood.

"Why is he always covered in blood?" Ginny sarcastically asked while scooting over to accommodate her bloody boyfriend.

"At least it's my own this time." He wrapped his arm around Ginny and she muttered "Tergeo" to clean his face of blood, "How'd the sorting go?"

There had been only twenty newcomers this year as opposed to the regular forty or so. "Three to both Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, four for Gryffindor." I paused, "And the regular ten for Slytherin."

"Might be the regular number, but that's half the incoming class." Harry complained, scooping himself some mashed potatoes.

"Mum almost didn't let us return," Ron said of himself and Ginny, "Says not even Hogwarts is safe anymore and since only Death Eaters are sending their kids to Hogwarts this year, I reckon she's right."

* * *

The first half of our sixth year passed rather quietly, or as quietly as one could expect for the adolescents who were on the brink of saving all of man and wizard kind from complete obliteration. Harry was having his constant meetings regarding how to combat the man once known as Tom Riddle with Professor Dumbledore; Ron was fighting his way through severe performance anxiety every time a Quidditch match was around the corner, which is to say he spent a good amount of his time sedated by Madame Pomfrey or myself; and I was busy juggling prefect duty and handling almost double the average course load without a time turner and helping – or doing as some might say – the boys' homework so that they could spend time with their girlfriends and other extracurricular activities.

There was a slight tension between the three of us this year. Harry kept trying to convince everyone and anyone, including Snape this one time, that Draco Malfoy had become a Death Eater at the age of sixteen. With his family history, I wouldn't be surprised if that was the case, however, Harry already had Ron going along on his 'Stalk Malfoy' missions and one of us had to stay logical. And as usual, it was me who had to be the logical one.

However, between mine and the boys' homework and perfecting duty, I managed to launch my own investigation on Malfoy. Malfoy and I were taking very similar classes, in fact I was only taking one more than him: Muggle studies. We were in many classes together and were always the two top students. He beat me in Potions and Alchemy and Transfiguration, but I was whopping him in Astronomy, Charms and Herbology. In the other three classes we shared we were about evenly matched, much to my dismay.

I began to realize that I wasn't putting all her effort into either clearing or incriminating Malfoy. On one hand, I thought that if I found him innocent, they – the soon to be termed the Golden Trio - would need a new reason to hate Malfoy, after all, they couldn't go on without hating him; without that hatred, the entire dynamic would shift and I was not a fan of change. But then on the other hand, if he was confirmed to be guilty… I wasn't sure whom she feared for more, her boys, as she had lovingly called Harry and Ron since sometime in their third or fourth year, or Malfoy himself. After all, if they were to kill or maim or even harm a single hair, Daddy Malfoy and all his _friends_ would be attacking Hogwarts in a matter of seconds. And then many more than just Draco would be killed or maimed.

All year long Harry had been stalking Malfoy via the Marauders Map, which he kept disappearing from during our shared free periods. So of course, I confiscated the map from Harry, not in an official prefect-protecting-the-peace capacity but in a friend-who's-sick-of-listening-to-it-over-breakfas t capacity. And so just after Potions I slipped away from Ron, Harry and the rest of the class, muttering an excuse of a towering homework pile, and pulled out the map. I muttered the magic words and searched the folded parchment for the little footsteps titled 'Draco Malfoy.' He was on the third floor already and moving fast, against the flow of the lunch-bound traffic.

Secret passageways opened up in front of me as I made my way up the several floors of the castle, nose pressed to the map the entire time. I was gaining on Malfoy's animated footprints since my route was more direct to wherever he was going. I escaped from the cobwebbed coated passageways on the seventh floor of the castle, just down the hall from Room of Requirement. I watched Malfoy enter the room, he never noticed me and I was certain to remain quiet so as not to call attention to myself.

Now faced with a choice, stay or leave, since the room would not open to her – she had tried – I deliberated. My friends would not be expecting me at lunch anytime soon and therefore, I committed to staying. I slid down into one of the comfy window seats that lined the wall of the seventh floor preparing to spend the time rewriting the transfiguration essay due next week.

The time ticked by, through lunch and through break, and Malfoy had yet to reappear. Once again faced with the dilemma – miss a double Transfiguration class and wait for Malfoy or go to class and abandon the chance of finding Malfoy out. During NEWTS students don't necessarily attend classes with their house; they attend classes based on when they fit in their schedule no matter who they were with or how often. I had decided to take so many classes this year that each class met for only five times apiece in a period of two weeks. I therefore couldn't afford to miss the one double transfiguration for the next three hundred and thirty six hours!

I walked sullenly down the corridor, depressed that my mission had been a failure, but just as I was rounding the corner toward the staircases, the sound of swift footsteps appeared behind me. Upon turning around, the figure of a slender young man with the sleek white-blonde hair and, though I couldn't see them at the moment, the cold stormy gray eyes, had simply appeared in the hallway. "My mission was no longer a failure!" I couldn't help but think. He had not been there two seconds ago and then he was right there, not ten yards from me. "I can confront him!"

"What are you doing up here, Malfoy?" I demanded, spinning my entire body to face the boy.

"Keep walking Granger." His voice was aggressive and strained.

"I will not keep walking!" Even I heard my voice raise an octave. _What was he hiding?_ "I want an answer! Not that I care about you, but your strange behavior is affecting my friends and by extension myself."

"Aww… Do Potter and Weasley have little gay crushes on me? Is that it? You're terrified that I'm turning the only boys - and believe me I am using the term loosely – in the school that will spend any time with you gay? Am I ruining your chances of avoiding becoming an old spinster like that horrid McGonagall or even more likely: that nut bag Trelawney! You even have the hair already!" Malfoy was sneering down at me. That last comment was below the belt. And my hair was _never_ that bad!

He had drawn so close over the course of his rant that I had to crane my neck back to look at his face. The boy had grown over the course of the school year, and the summer for that matter, now he was as tall as Ron, except when Ron grew it was only in an upwards direction, Malfoy had filled out. The Slytherin had grown more muscular, probably due to intense Quidditch training over the years. He was beginning to be – dare I say i- "Nope. No. _No_." I had to remind myself how the boy had become meaner as well. The thing was, his cruelty came in short angry bursts like a toddler's temper tantrums rather than the previously calculated and deliberately nasty comments that were made whenever and wherever. Now the boy simply went about his day alone, scurrying to and from his common room and classes, usually without Crabbe or Goyle or even Pansy Parkinson. He was always alone, something Harry had contemplated for months, and always kept his head down, not even acknowledging me with a "Mudblood" as form of greeting.

"Malfoy, what's wrong with you? You look…" I searched for the correct definition of his new grayish pallor with the gaunt shadows under his eyes, "Sickly." The boy I had grown up opposite of seemed to be wasting away before my very eyes. Though I never like Malfoy, I sometimes believed I downright hated him, I felt a sudden pang of fear for the boy I had punched dead in the face just three years ago and since then pledged to loathe for all eternity.

"What's it to you Mudblood?" Of course that was how the uncivilized monster would respond to my worry. And apparently that horrid word still plagued his vocabulary.

"Merlin, Malfoy! I'm just trying to help!" Though my voice was louder, even I could tell there was little fight or anger in its tone.

"Why do you care?" He demanded. _That is a very, very good question._ "That's what I thought." He walked right past me, clipping my shoulder with his as passed.

Hermione stood in that hallway for another ten minutes. Though I despised Malfoy, I was worried that he was even sicker than he appeared. I tried to convince myself that his pain was a good thing, that his demise would make the world safer, but I could not sell the idea that the little boy I met in first year's would make the world better by dying.


	3. Chapter 3

**A.N. **Hey everyone! Thanks so much for the reviews and all of the favorites and alerts! Keep it up shall we?

The months had passed swiftly. Through September and past the Halloween banquet. The first Quidditch match and then the second rushed by and then the Christmas break was upon us.

"Finally!" Ron shouted as we disembarked from the Hogwarts Express. Harry, Ron, Ginny and I forced through the crowded platform, pulling trunks along behind. The Weasleys were easy enough to find – the only burst of red in the sea of dark browns and blacks. Soon enough the party of six was off to a relaxing two weeks in the countryside.

The students were at the Burrow for a few days, with only two days until Christmas Day, when Arthur Weasley rushed through the front gate and into the kitchen, completely out of breath, "We have been invited to a Christmas party." He panted.

"By whom dear?" Mrs. Weasley didn't miss a beat and continued to stir the ginormous pot of soup.

"Lucius Malfoy." This revelation caused everyone to freeze. The soup stopped stirring, Ginny and I stopped setting the table and Mrs. Weasley's wand fell to the floor. Had the boys, who were currently playing Quidditch in the yard, had been there, only Merlin knows what their reactions would have been.

"Malfoy?" I repeated, "But he's in Azkaban!"

"The minister is unable to throw the yearly Christmas party and the Malfoy wife, Nar- what is it again?" I squeaked out the answer, "Right, thank you, Hermione. Narcissa offered to both plan and host the party. I assume this is to get back into good standing now that her husbands locked up for good." Mr. Weasley sighed and slid into a seat at the table, "Its Christmas Eve night."

"Well, we don't have to go! Do we?" Ginny was the first to break the silence, whipping her head back and forth between her parents.

"The minister thought it to be a grand idea and now the entire ministry is invited." He skirted her question, something Ginny promptly notice, "It is day after next. Molly," he looked at his wife, "I believe a trip to Diagon Alley is needed."

And so the preparations began. The dinner became a dine-n-dash affair so that plans could be made to accommodate the late notice of the black tie affair.

"Hermione! Ginny! We could stop by Twilfitt and Tattlings, but I feel like we will have more luck in the Muggle part of London. Women will be wearing ball gowns." Mrs. Weasley said between eating her soup and bustling about the kitchen to find all the necessities for a trip to Diagon Alley, "Boys, you will have to go to Madame Malkin's. Ron, you ought to try on the robes you wore to the Yule Ball."

"But Mu-"

"No buts, Ronald! Now march yourself up to the attic and try on those robes! They're in the chest in the southeast corner." Mrs. Weasley spun around, throwing daggers at her youngest son.

From then on, no one questioned Molly Weasley while she flew about the kitchen much like a Tasmanian Devil collecting coupons and galleons and the occasional muggle pound.

"Now ladies," Mrs. Weasley stopped the two girls just outside the Leaky Cauldron, "We are meeting the boys back here in two hours, so we need to be quick. Hermione lead the way."

We had decided that the dresses would be far less expensive in the muggle realm than anything they would hope to find in the wizard one due to the currency exchange rate making the Galleon worth much more than a pound. And that is why when the boys turned left to venture into Diagon Alley for Madam Malkin's, we turned right to Gringotts to exchange a few galleons each for a couple hundred pounds before heading out into muggle London.

I led the women to a small shop at the end of the street. My mum had taken me here once when I had needed a dress for my fifth grade graduation. There were so many dresses here that it had left an impression on me. It was just as I remembered with what seemed like thousands of row of dresses ranging from simple sundresses to elaborate ball gowns. We aimed for the latter.

"Are they using an expansion charm or something?" Ginny asked, earning her a questioning look from a sales girl.

It took about an hour, but soon enough Mrs. Weasley and Ginny had found their dresses. Mrs. Weasley's was a simple, slimming black gown that reached the ground, with a fitted bodice. Ginny's was gorgeous, though Mrs. Weasley did not approve of the length. The dress was a sea foam color. From the thick sparking silver belt that wrapped just below the chest flowed a high-low skirt that at its longest reached Ginny's knees. She picked out a pair of black, ankle booties that were nearly five inches tall.

Now, it was my turn to choose from my pile in the dressing room. The first half dozen looked horrendous on me and only managed to demolish my self-esteem. It was on the thirteenth that the sight in the mirror did not appall me. Tentatively I pulled the curtain out of the way revealing my figure to the two Weasley women. The two gasped and stood from their seats to praise the simple purple dress.

"Do you have shoes?" Another voice came. The voice was graceful and powerful, yet gentle and warm. I glanced over to see a tall, slim woman with light blue eyes and the white-blonde hair I had learned to dread, "There was this pair of heals… I'll be right back."

"Mum? Was that-" Mrs. Weasley nodded, "Does she know who we are?"

"I've never actually met her."

Narcissa Malfoy returned carrying a pair of sparkling silver heals, "I think I got the right size. They will look lovely with that dress!" She handed me the shoes, "Now, I really must leave. I'm hosting a party at my house tomorrow and really must attend to the catering."

"Mrs. Malfoy?" I bit my tongue while the Weasleys sent me terrified looks.

"Yes?" Narcissa spun around, looking befuddled, "Have we met before?"

"Not technically." I forced out, "I know your son, Draco."

Her face lit up a bit at the mention of her only son, "A friend of Draco's? How do you know him?"

"Draco and I are classmates." To which she inquired "You don't look like a typical Slytherin."

"Actually, I'm a Gryffindor." Now she was truly intriqued, "My name is Hermione Granger." Her face lit up with recognition.

"Ah yes. " The smile remained plastered to her face, "Draco has told me that you are the smartest witch of your age and that you're very… determined." I appreciated what I was certain was a rephrasing, "So if you are Miss Granger, that would make you two Mrs. Weasley and Miss Weasley, Molly and Ginevra, am I correct?" The two in question smiled, surprised with the blonde's hospitality, "I'm Narcissa. Now I really must be going."

"Mrs. Malfoy?" Again the blonde turned.

"Please, Narcissa." She insisted.

"How is your son?" I asked before I could stop myself. I really needed to train myself not to say exactly what I was thinking, "How is Draco?"

"He is fine. Enjoying the holiday with some Quidditch." And with that she took her leave.

"Hermione?" Ginny whispered, "What in the devil was that?"

"I have no idea." I muttered staring after the woman weaving her way through the rows and rows of dresses.

"You mean that Narcissa Malfoy was at a muggle store?" Ron sniggered, "Wonder how her son feels about that? Or better yet, her bastard husband?"

"She was surprisingly pleasant."

"That's because she didn't know who you were." Harry quipped and took a bite of his meal.

We had all returned, laden with bags of robes and dresses, to the Leaky Cauldron for a quick lunch before we returned to the Burrow.

"Actually, she handled it quite well when she found out who she was talking to." Mrs. Weasley admitted.

"'Who she was talking to' we aren't the plague." Ginny grumbled.

The night of the ball had arrived and found Ginny and I in our shared bedroom. We were both wearing bathrobes while she pulled my hair up into some elaborate bun-like thing. She made quick work of me and then began with her own up-do that resembled a blossoming flower on the crown of her head. She slid into her fitted green dress. Over one shoulder was a simple green strap but over the other went a thick piece of fabric accented with a crystalized piece. Ginny pulled out the black suede booties and punctured her ears with simple, dangling diamonds. I looked over at my younger friend and immediately felt self-conscious next to the super model my friend resembled. Ginny forced me into my dress, doing her best to keep me vertical as I stumbled and tripped. "Now put on the shoes." Ginny instructed me, handing me the shiny, sparkling silver heals. There was no way I could walk in those; they were nearly as tall as Ginny's, "Hurry 'Mione. We need to leave soon."

Malfoy Manor was larger than anything I had ever expected. I had known to expect a large manor house, that went without saying, but no gossip had prepared me for the residence towering high above our group of eight. The sprawling grounds were covered in a heavy coat of unblemished snow and lights were twinkling, having been strung around the trees and pathways. From the outside, I could see at least four stories, but she knew there could be more seeing as it was the home of an old and magical pureblood family. It was made of brick with ivy growing up the sides. Four large marble pillars, two on each side of the door, dominated the façade.

Our party of eight ascended the sweeping staircase to the opened front door, which stretched two stories high, revealing a grand hall filled with light and chatter. I could see floating trays with various drinks and appetizers circulating about the crowd.

"Welcome!" Narcissa greeted each person as they entered the hall. She was standing just within the warm glow of light spilling out onto the front patio. We were two or three groups from the front of the line and I found myself fidgeting with my dress and then my hair and then my dress again. "Stop it 'Mione. You look gorgeous." Ron whispered to me. I felt the heat rush to my cheeks.

"Miss Granger! So glad to see you!" I felt a pressure on my hand and snapped out of my trance to see Narcissa Malfoy grasping my hand, then Ron's, then Harry's then the rest of the Weasleys, "Thank you for coming Mr. Potter. I am so glad your history with my family did not stand in the way of your accepting my invitation." Then she spoke to all of us, "Dinner will be served in about and hour in the dinning room. Until then please, drink and mingle and have a good time." We took this as a cue to move along into the hall.

"Maybe it was an error bringing Harry here…" I worried, looking about, just waiting for a death eater attack.

"There is an amazing amount of security here all sponsored by the ministry. Scrimgeour is optimistic, but he's not naive." Mr. Weasley seemed so certain that it allowed for me to relax.

Harry, Ron, Ginny and I separated from the rest of the group to go dance and drink some of the fire whiskey that was circulating around the room. Half an hour later and I was thoroughly sloshed, right along with Ginny. The boys, however, remained stone cold sober, "I nee- I need to use da loo…" I slurred out between giggles. "No no Harry." I shook off his helpful arm, "I can do this on my own." So I wandered about Malfoy Manor drunk and alone.

**DRACO POV**

I could hear the hundreds of voices the floor below. I could hear the classical music echoing through the halls. The entire Manor was abuzz with the festivities and yet I was upstairs in my pajama pants playing Wizards' Chess all by my lonesome.

My father, though I was loathing him more and more as the year progressed, was being imprisoned and yet my mother was throwing a party. I did not hold this against her, she needed something to distract her; after Father had been sent away, many of Mother's friends had deserted her. Not to mention, I would never side against my mother. She was one of the only people I truly loved.

There was a knock on my door. _Speak of the devil._ I stood and crossed the room to answer it, but before I could, the door swung open, revealing a rather stunning, and drunk, Hermione Granger. I drank in her image: the floor length purple gown with the fitted top and flowing portion that began around her mid thigh. She was breathtaking, and utterly perplexed, "Malfoy? What are you doing here?" She slurred.

"I live here Miss Granger." I smiled at the way her eyebrows pulled together, "This is my room. Would you come in, I think I have a potion with your name on it." I chuckled at the bookworm and ushered her inside. I sat her down on my bed and began rummaging through the closet that I kept my potions in. _Ah. There it is._ The sobering potion. I smiled to myself as I poured a serving into a small cup and handed it to her, "Bottoms up Granger." She eyed me suspiciously (_smart girl_) but took the potion anyway.

"Ah _Shit._" She groaned. She happily took the next potion from my hand. The one that got rid of the hangover. "Thank you." Embarrassed, she looked down, but I could still see the bright blush over her cheeks. _She was sober now._

"So, enjoying the party?" Her face shot up, her eyes furious. I let the corner of my lips twitch upward so that she would know I was just teasing. I think the message got through.

"As a matter of fact, I am. And why aren't you down there?" She asked, eyeing my choice of attire.

"I'm not exactly in the mood for festivities." I let my eyes drift down, "You probably should be getting back to the party before your friends miss you."

"You should come." She let out hastily, "I mean, it's you're party after all."

"It's my mother's party. And as much as I'd love to, I have nothing to wear." I was only in a pair of flannel pants after all.

"Nonsense!" She jumped up and began riffling through my drawers and my closet. I was too shocked to stop the witch from tearing through some of my most private things, "Here. Get dressed." She threw a set of robes at me, but upon seeing the stunned look on my face her ecstatic expression faltered into worry, "Oh. I'm sorry. I-"

"It's fine." I took the cloths in my hands and crossed to the bathroom, pausing just before I entered, "Give me a minute and we'll head down. They should be serving dinner right about now."

**Hermione's POV**

Dinner was nothing short of magnificent. The meats were roasted to perfection and everything was hot out of the oven. I pitied the house elves, but the meal was too delicious to worry about my SPEW initiative. I sat between Harry and Ron, neither of which had talked to me since I had descended the stairs with Malfoy beside me. I suppose I was glad they didn't say anything; if they did I was worried what angry and disapproving words they might say.

I knew that everyone was whispering about my reappearance with the young Master of the Manor. Malfoy was sitting beside his mother at the head table, surrounded by all of the higher ups in the Ministry. He raised his face and suddenly his gray eyes boring into my brown. It was the strangest experience of my life. I had read about it in all of those teen drama books. The world around me stopped. I couldn't see anyone, all the faces blended into the background and all sounds, the clattering of silverware, the string quartet, the chatter, all meshed into one quiet murmur. All I could see was Malfoy. That's it. Someone must have charmed me or something because I really couldn't see anything else, trust me, I tried. He watched me and I watched him. His lips twitched upwards, I felt mine pull into a full fledge grin at the first smile I had seen grace Malfoy's face. He was attractive. I'll admit it. His dress robes did nothing to help the situation; the dark black fabric contrasted his pale skin and white-blonde hair. His face was distinguished; the chiseled features made him look older than Ron and Harry, more like a man rather than the child I had grown up with. His eyes were that gray that would change textures based on his mood, something I had noticed all the way back in second year. And his lips; they were thin, but looked so soft, I wondered what they would feel like against my own.

"_Hermione._" A voice broke through, "Hermione." Ginny kicked me under the table, "Welcome back." She smirked and I had a feeling she knew where I had been.

On Christmas day we received nearly every member of the Order. Lupin and Tonks spoke in hushed tones in the corner while Moody grudgingly smiled in the center of the living room while Kingsley sat awkwardly in the corner, not yet as comfortable with the company as the rest of us. The boys were tearing open presents that were brought by all our friends. Ginny and I were assisting Mrs. Weasley in preparing the ginormous feast for fourteen.

We all crowded about the table and enjoyed the small time of blissful happiness before we each returned to the real world where war was approaching. After the decadent spread, I found myself alone in the kitchen with Mrs. Weasley, washing dishes and generally cleaning up after the merriment. I don't know what prompted me to do so, but much like I had with Mrs. Malfoy, the words began to rush out of me faster than I could stop them.

"Mrs. Weasley?" I rushed, "I need advice." She instructed me to continue, and continue I did. I told her all about the party from me searching for the loo drunk to me bringing Malfoy downstairs to the bizarre experience at dinner.

"Hermione," her worry was evident in her tone, "You must be cautious. He is a Malfoy who are known Death Eaters. I expect you to be more sensible than this."

"It's just," I thought back to the kindness in his eyes when he had handed me the potions, "He's changed over the summer. He's nicer now."

"I won't tell you what to do, but I will say be careful, he might change little things, but blood runs thicker than water, and his blood is Death Eater through and through."

"Molly, haven't we learned not to judge a child based solely on their parents' beliefs. Look at Tonks's mother, she ran off and defied her family, the very same one you speak of now." Lupin had entered the room and some unknown moment, "There is a streak of rebellion that runs through that boy's veins and if anyone can spark it, it's our little Miss Granger." He smiled over at me before dropping his plates on the counter and retreating back to the living room.


	4. Chapter 4

Vacation had finished all too soon. And so, we students returned to platform 9 ¾ dressed in our warm, homemade sweaters for the long train ride back to Hogwarts for the winter term. I sat listening to Ginny and the boys bickering about some Quidditch call some ref had made, needless to say I had not a clue beyond that. I stood and told them I was off to find the snack trolley, and off I went.

I found the trolley three compartments down in a predominantly Hufflepuff carriage. I made idle chitchat, the usual "How was your Christmas?" and "That is such a neat new -", while I waited for the line to clear up as apparently I wasn't the only one with a sweat tooth to satisfy. I had just finished a conversation with Hannah Abbott when a cool voice cut through the commotion of the carriage, "Sure Blaise, you head back, wouldn't want to keep you from Pansy any longer than need be." _Malfoy_.

The blonde came to stand behind me in the line. I turned to face him and was shocked to find and angry red line stretching from his scalp to his chin. I gasped to which he demanded, "Can I help you, Granger?"

"No. Um, would you like me to heal that?" I asked him reaching for the dittany I always kept in my bag in case of emergency.

"It can't be healed. My aunt was a bit annoyed after being cooped up so long for that blasted party." He was so brazenly talking about his aunt being at his house as though she wasn't a wanted fugitive.

"At least let me try." The bottle of dittany was already in my hand and he simply shrugged, so I put a little of the substance on the tip of my finger and began to slowly apply it to the side of his face. "Blaise and Pansy are an item now?" I asked conversationally as I watched the dittany slowly take its affect, "I thought that you and Pansy…"

"Just casual." He answered, "She began to get clingy. I broke it off."

"Well it's all done." I ignored the thrill those words sent through my body.

"How'd you do that?" He fingered the thin white scar that had replaced the angry red line.

"Essence of Dittany." I stated proudly, completely aware of his smirk, "So what are you going to do now?" His brow furrowed slightly, "Without Pansy?"

"Yes well, I believe I'll manage. Not all males are as primal as your lot. Now are you going to buy something or not?"

"Turn to page six hundred and fifty two in your books." Snape's loud, drawling voice reverberated around the room as he strode up the hallway created by our desks, "For the next week you will be working in pairs in order to produce a fully researched essay regarding the practice of occlumency, totaling two rolls of parchment in length." Snape paused to wait for his words to be copied onto the blackboard wandlessly, "The pairs will be as follows: Mr. Zabini and Miss Perks, Miss Parkinson and Mr. Thomas, Miss Greengrass and Miss Brown, Mr. Goyle and Mr. Weasley, Miss Bulstrode and Mr. Potter, Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Longbottom, Miss Davis and Mr. Finnigan, Mr. Nott and Miss Patil, Miss Roper and Miss Smith, leaving," _Out with it already._ Snape turned his tunnel like eyes to me and then towards the back of the room, "Mr. Malfoy and Miss Granger, I am sure the two of you will find being partners to your advantage what with your similar class schedules." He turned his attention back to the class as a whole, "You may use the rest of the hour to begin your planning."

I turned to face the back of the room where Snape had looked, Malfoy sat, reclining on his stool with an eyebrow cocked, daring me to ask him to move. And so I stood, gathering my things and moved to the back of the room. I let my bag fall to the ground with a resounding thump before moving myself onto the stool Zabini had just recently vacated.

"First," I pulled out my copy of Curses and Counter-Curses, "We must find out what occlumency actually is."

"And they call you the smartest witch of our time." Malfoy sneered, "Occlumency is the act of closing one's mind against Legilimency. Allow me to put it in muggle terms for you," his speech became very slow and clear as if he was worried I wouldn't understand, "Occlumency is an art used to stop other people, known as legilimens, from reading your mind."

"Well then." _How did he know something I didn't!_ "That just saved us some time. Now since you know _so_ much about this _art_, why don't you outline the essay then?" I set a quill and ink well in front of him. The blonde boy shrugged, picked up the quill, and began scribbling away.

I watched him scribble away what looked like an in-depth outline. I couldn't really tell since his writing was so elaborate, so _elegant_. I picked up another quill and began rewriting the words, asking him about this word or that. Eventually, Malfoy stopped writing and simply dictated the outline, smirking at my comments and shooting them down one by one.

"What if the final part is about people who practice occlumency and what they use it for?" I stated, already poised to write it down.

Malfoy shifted uncomfortably in his seat before responding, "I suppose that will work."

The bell rang a few moments later and Snape dismissed us. I had Herbology next with Malfoy and the Ravenclaws, so I said my goodbyes to Ron and Harry before walking not with Malfoy, but in the same direction and rather close together, to the Greenhouses.

"We'll meet tomorrow after dinner at the library." Malfoy stated just as we reached Greenhouse Three.

"What about tonight?" I had a happily light homework load tonight.

"Tomorrow. I have plans tonight." He answered briskly. Malfoy opened the door, his hand high above my head, and allowed me to pass him into the building before following.

That night I left dinner early to go do some independent research for the paper since Malfoy was busy. It was then that I learned what Malfoy was busy doing. I was just about to exit the hall when I bumped into a body.

"Oi! Granger! Watch where you're going." Malfoy stood, towering above me and the fourth year Slytherin he had been pulling along by the hand. When he stopped to scold me, the girl pressed herself up against his back and tucked one arm around his waist. The girl looked around Malfoy's shoulder at me smugly. The scene made me sick.

"So this is what you're busy _doing._" I smirked with the emphasis on the last word.

"Better than sitting in a library with you, now isn't it, Granger." The girl giggled at Malfoy's remark.

"Tomorrow." I stated, "Don't forget." I spun on my heel and stalked off to Gryffindor tower, deciding to skip the library tonight.

"Don't worry, Granger, I could never forget about a date with you." He called after me, causing many stunned looks. _They couldn't actually believe it was a date._

**Draco's POV**

_Bitch made me late._ I grumbled about the chore of perfecting as I crossed the palace to the Room of Requirement. I passed the portrait of dancing trolls three times and then entered the room fully stocked with _everything_. Chairs were piled upon dressers and books lay under hats. I laced my way through the pillars of long forgotten objects to the object that had plagued my mind since August. I pulled the sheet off and began my work, muttering my incantations.

"Draco." The voice tinkled behind me. I turned to face the woman with the black curls and pale skin, "You're late."

"Olivia." I looked into the girl's bright blue eyes, very similar to my mother's, "I had things to tend to."

"Hm." She stepped forward to be level with me and looked at the cabinet, "You better succeed, I can hardly stomach that house while you're at school, if you die and never give me a break I will kill myself."

"And how would you do that, Squib?" I elbowed her playfully in the ribs.

"For your information, my dear cousin, muggles manage to off themselves all the time." Then her nose wrinkled, "Plus, I'm certain my mother and father would be far too happy to help me along." I glanced over at her and just barely saw the flash of pain in her eyes before she collected herself into a cold mask, "Now we had better get to work on this little project of yours. It's due in a few months."

**Hermione POV**

"Nice of you to show up." He rolled his eyes and slunk into the hard wooden chair opposite me, "Hope I didn't pull you away from anything too interesting."

"Don't worry, Granger. I set aside my whole evening just for _you_." See how she likes that.

"Yes well, I'm sure your _friends_," namely the girl that was groping you last night, "will be rather disappointed by your absence."

He smirked at me, "You interested in my sex life, Granger?" He saved me the embarrassment of sputtering out an answer by continuing, "If you really must know about my extracurricular activities, the girl was bloody sloshed. I was doing my duty as a prefect and getting her some help."

"Is that some sort of innuendo?" I asked certain he knew much more about the subject than myself.

"No. I took her straight up to the Hospital wing. I spent the rest of my night working on another project."

"Why did-"

"Why did I make it look like I was going to sleep with her?" He beat me to the punch, "As I'm certain you know, I have a reputation amongst Slytherins. You see, my family has wealth and power, two very desirable traits in my social circles. I myself am known as the Prince of Slytherin among other things," _Yes. I had heard the rumors of his title of Hogwarts Sex God, but he didn't need to know that,_ "The girl was the younger Parkinson, Zoe, she's had a rough time making friends and such, no thanks to her sister who has done everything she can to not only sabotage potential friendships but also prevent others from knowing of their relation. Anyway, Zoe has taken to getting plastered by means of relieving the loneliness and in attempt to impress others. I tried to prevent it, but it doesn't work, so I decided to give her reputation a boost."

I let what he said sink in, "So sleeping with you would boost one's social standing?" I asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Why?" He cocked his own eyebrow, "Interested?"

"Just surprised you would go out of your way to help someone." I turned my book, hoping to hide my blush from him.

"I'm not all bad, Granger."

The essay was easy enough; Occlumency was a rather difficult piece of magic that only the most skilled witches and wizards could preform. I was excited to give it a shot. We made our way through the essay in a companionable silence with a few muttered words passing every once in a while.

"Do you know any occlumens?" I asked him, at a complete blank myself.

"Well let's see." He paused, searching his mind, "Dumbledore," he stuck up one long, pale finger, counting, "Snape," another finger, "You-Know-Who," another finger, "My _aunt_," he growled the title and stuck up another finger, "And finally, yours truly."

I gawked at him, "You?" He nodded. Malfoy was one of the most skilled wizards? After all, only a man of great power could even hope to preform such a task. "Teach me." I whispered.

"We just wrote an essay about it. Teach yourself." He muttered, running one hand through his hair.

"Please Malfoy. You wrote it yourself, the most effective way of learning occlumency is to _need_ to use it!"

"So you want me to force myself into your mind?" He muttered, "That is a place no man wound never want to venture. Plus, you're out of luck, I'm not a legilimens, just an occlumens."

"How different could they be? Just give it a try." I was actually begging Malfoy to invade my mind.

"If I give it a try," He started, his face pained, "Will you drop it when it doesn't work." I nodded vigorously, "Ready?"

He rested his right arm on the table with his wand aimed upwards at my face, "Legilimens." He murmered and suddenly memories were flipping through my mind's eye. _He had done it. He has access to all my thoughts. Boggarts!_ I began doing all I could to force him out. I was failing miserably.

He combed through my memories, staying with those involving himself. The first time I saw him flashed by. Back before first year had even started, before we knew whom each other was, I was searching the train for Neville's train and had come across Malfoy's compartment. He was alone, flipping through one of the textbooks he had brought with him. We introduced ourselves, leaving out our blood statuses, and he offered to help me look for the toad. The next was of the sorting. My focus as the hat sat upon my head had been the small white-haired boy, my first tentative friendship at Hogwarts, who smiled over to me. The subtle look of horror that plagued his face when I was sorted into Gryffindor told me that we would not continue to be friends and filled my heart with dread. Then he began into our second year when he called me Mudblood for the first time. I relived the horrid feeling of my heart clenching in on itself and falling into the pit of my stomach. Then that night where I lay in bed and sobbed my eyes out.

_NO._ And I felt the force pushing him back out of my head. My vision cleared and suddenly he was sitting in front of me, slouched back in his chair, clearly drained. We blinked at each other; both shocked at my memories. He broke the silence first, "Hermione, I'm sorry – I didn't mean-" _Of course he had meant to! That was the whole point of the exercise. _I quickly collected my school books and stood from my seat, "Hermione, please!" He called after me as I scurried away from the table and out of the library.


	5. Chapter 5

I had been avoiding him for the last few days. Sure we had many classes together, but I was certain to use indirect routes and find a seat next to anyone but him. I had even sunken so low as to sit myself beside Pansy Parkinson to avoid the blonde haired boy who had read my memories. If the boy was even slightly intelligent, and I was sure he was, he would have realized that I might have fostered a tiny schoolgirl crush on the school's bad boy. Maybe. A while ago. Not anymore.

I was sitting in charms class, practicing a Bubble-Head Charm, when a little origami bird landed gracefully on the desk in front of me. I prodded the little avian paper and it unfolded into a smooth piece of parchment before my eyes. A short note was written in a neat and deliberate writing, but I still recognized Draco Malfoy's uncharacteristically neat handwriting:

_Hermione –_

_ I hope you are able to read this note as I am writing as neatly as I can without going mad. We only have a couple more days to complete the essay and I am otherwise engaged over the weekend. I was hoping we could forget about the last time's incident and continue working civilly. I was thinking I could meet you outside the Great Hall after dinner tonight. If I don't hear otherwise, I will be waiting for you at six. _

_-Malfoy _

Knowing I couldn't avoid my classmate forever since we did in fact have a project to do, I turned over my shoulder, met his eye and nodded stiffly before turning back to my work.

The food on my plate went untouched this evening, something Ginny did not fail to question, forcing me to explain my plans. Harry and Ron's jaws both dropped before they began complaining about the arrangement. Ginny simply looked at the clock and alerted me to the time, six o'clock. And so I stood and walked to the entrance of the front hall.

"Hello." He drawled from his position leaning against the wall beside the Great Hall.

"Hi." I breathed, taking in his form. He wasn't wearing his Slytherin robe, just his black dress pants, a long-sleeve white shirt and a black vest over it, and of course his green and silver Slytherin tie.

"Come along then." He led me through the castle. Up and down staircases we went, past deserted classrooms and across parts of the castle even I had never even seen, much less read about. He finally led me into what I believed to be a deserted classroom somewhere in the western wing of the castle.

The room was not a deserted classroom; it was a fully furnished sitting room. With great, plush armchairs centered around a fireplace and towering bookshelves covering the entire southern wall. It was the books that drew me in, they were all extremely rare titles, books that had been writing before Hogwarts was founded, some from before even the founders were born.

"I thought you might like those." He nodded toward the books. He himself was standing in front of the fireplace. Suddenly, the flames roared into existence, heating the entire room and lighting Malfoy's being such that his pale blonde hair seemed to glow white. I watched him step back and sink into an armchair leaning back.

"Malfoy, how did you find this place?" I asked, running my finger along the delicate bindings.

"You see, my mother enjoys redecorating so much that she was simply throw most of these furnishings away, and my father has such a little affinity for books that he didn't even notice when I pilfered the library of some of its rarest pieces." I then noticed the small crest engraved into the side of the bookshelves. Two dragons facing a shield with spears crossing it, the letter M etched into the middle. He noticed me jerk away from the certainly cursed objects, and as if reading my mind he simply stated, "They aren't curse. I checked each one. Wouldn't have brought you here if I wasn't certain they were safe for Mud-ggle borns." I turned around in shock and was surprised further by the smile tugging at his lips.

"Well – um – we better get working on the paper." The smile made me uncomfortable. _Malfoy didn't smile._

"I actually finished it up the other night." He smiled bashfully.

"Then why?"

"I thought we could use this time for me to teach you Occlumency." He stated.

I stared at him, mulling over his offer. It would be quite a skill to have, occlumency, but did I want to allow Malfoy to penetrate my mind over and over again? "Or we could-"

"No no. Do it. But how do I repel you?" I hastily spoke.

"I suggest clearing your mind. But since for _you_ that could be difficult, I suggest trying to divert your thoughts to those you wouldn't mind me seeing or create a new memory." He instructed, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees, allowing his clasped hands to fall between them. "Sit." I did, "Ready." I nodded, "Legilimens."

I could feel him inside my head. It was odd, another set of thoughts that I could not begin to understand. I saw memories of Harry, Ron and I sitting around the Gryffindor common room. Next came the image Ginny doing my hair for the Malfoy's Christmas Ball. _Repel him._ Another memory flickered into my sight, me, completely wasted, barging into Malfoy's bedroom. The only difference between this one and the others was that the newest memory was not from my own perspective, but I was seeing it through a set of gray eyes.

I pushed farther in. Forcing my way out of myself and into another mind. It was dark. Very dark. There was nothing. Absolutely nothing. Then I heard a sigh and a few little white circles appeared around me. I looked into the one closest to me and I was sucked in.

I felt my feet hit the ground and I was sitting in a train compartment, directly across from a pre-first-year Malfoy. Funny thing was: I could hear the young boy's thoughts. _Though the castle stands proudly with over eight floors, to the muggle eye it takes the shape of ruins, commonly referred to as the ruins of Ferns Castle, with a wooden sign demanding that one not enter._ Little Malfoy was reading up on his new home, I couldn't help but smile. The door slid open and a frizzy haired girl peaked in and smiled, "Excuse me?" Malfoy looked up at me – er, little Hermione -, "Have you seen a toad? A boy named Neville lost his." Little Malfoy responded, "No. I haven't." _His voice has gotten much deeper_, "But I can help you look." Malfoy set aside his book and stood, following Hermione out of the compartment.

The scene dissolved and was placed by another. "Hermione Granger." Professor McGonagall read off her thick role of parchment. Little me trotted up the few steps and sat underneath the sorting hat. I watched as the hat lowered onto my bushy curls. I remembered the Hat whispering about Ravenclaw and about Gryffindor and even once the idea of Slytherin, but I heard none of it. Instead I heard a young boys chant of _Slytherin, Slytherin, Slytherin._ I looked to my left and right at all the little first years, the tallest of which stood to about my shoulder, before I remembered the words had to be coming from young Malfoy. _He was hoping for me to be in Slytherin. Where he was certain he'd be._

Next came our first potions class, with Snape interrogating Harry and my hand flying up into the air. _How is it she knows everything if she's only a muggle born_. I smiled at the small boy who was looking over at the little me. Then came our broom lessons, Malfoy had raised his broom on his second try and had settled in to watching me amusedly trying to summon the stick into my hand. Because I was standing beside him, I was able to hear him mutter, "Up." One last time. My broom shot up into the air and I exuded a smug look. _So he had forced my broom up. I couldn't even do that. Good thing I never tried out for Quidditch_. I also just now noticed that I was the last student by a long run to raise the broom.

I plopped down into a Hogwarts courtyard, seeing Ron, Harry and the rest of the Gryffindor boys in our year walking away and laughing. The younger Hermione was only a few steps behind them and the young Malfoy a few steps behind her, flanked by Crabbe, Goyle, Zabini and Pansy.

"No wonder she doesn't have any friends." I heard Ron joke. I saw myself hustle forward and away. I turned to see Malfoy frown at the scene and heard him, _Poor Hermione, I should_ – he began to break of from his friends – _no, I can't she's a Mudblood._ He sighed and fell back into step with a disappointed look on his face.

Next I was in Diagon Alley. I was shocked I was able to remain in his mind for so long, but I didn't question it and continued on with the memory. I was looking down on Harry, Ron and Hermione in the mosh pit in front of Lockheart. Malfoy followed his father down the steps and I heard the elder Malfoy insult us each in turn before spinning to leave. I quickly followed the two blondes down into the street.

"Father," The younger Malfoy spoke to his father, "Why do we hate mudbloods? Shouldn't we pity them? It's not like they chose to be born into a muggle family." _Wow, Malfoy questioning the evilness of Muggle Borns? _

"It is simple Draco, muggle borns force themselves upon the wizarding public and mate, polluting our bloodline. Do you still need to be convinced of their wickedness?"

"No father."

Later that year, on the Quidditch pitch. He called me Mudblood and felt dread and just downright horrible at the sight of my pain. Then I was in the hospital wing watching Malfoy sitting in a chair beside my petrified form, "I'm so sorry, Hermione." He whispered, "I wished this on you." I saw what looked like a tear trickle down his cheek, but that couldn't be since Malfoy didn't cry.

Then I was in the Malfoys' elaborate tent. Malfoy senior was dressed in all black robes, sliding a mask onto his face. _A death eater's mask._ Young Malfoy watched as his father left the tent, waited a few seconds before he too flew from the structure. I had to run to keep up with him, even as a boy he was fast. He weaved his way through the festivities which soon turned to panic. He reached his destination and soon enough I saw myself, Harry and the Weasleys emerge from the tent all with looks of pure horror on his face. _Listen to me just this once_. Malfoy begged in his head before barking aloud to Ron and Harry, "Better get those two out of here now, boys. It's not safe here for them. Better hurry." I remembered Malfoy sneering those words two years ago, at the time I had thought he was just being a prick, but now, he was trying to tip us off, give us a head start away from his father.

Next came the Yule Ball where I saw myself descending the staircase. Malfoy stared at me, opened mouthed, earning him a slap from Pansy, his date. _If only –_ He quickly cut off his thoughts. Later that night, he watched as Ron upset my and I sunk to the stairs crying. I could feel his need to comfort me, and yet, Pansy pulled him onward. Then I was in the stands around the Black Lake watching as Viktor pulled me from its depths. Rage engulfed me and Malfoy slapped a younger boy who had cheered.

Onto fifth year I went, following Malfoy on the escapades of the Inquisitorial Squad. He showed me how he allowed Crabbe and Goyle to eat the candy thereby letting us escape. Then I felt the shame he had felt when his father was captured after trying to kill us in the Department of Mystery. After that overwhelming feeling of shame, I returned to my own mind, slowly and gently.

"You didn't exactly use Occlumency, but you did your job and got me out." He smirked at me. Malfoy sat in the same position he had been in when we had begun, but I was slouched back in my chair.

"You let me see all those." He nodded, "Were they real?" I remembered what he had said about making up memories.

"I would swear to it under the influence of Veritaserum." His eyes drilled into mine, gray into brown, "You aren't the only one to have had a forbidden crush, I can promise you that."

We were silent for a while, just staring at each other. I don't know about him, but I was doing all I could to figure out if I could trust him. I wished that I could, after all, its easier to trust than stalking someone around the school, "So where does that leave us."

"In a bit of a rough spot actually. You see, if we were to-" he paused, searching for how to phrase his next thought, "act on our desires, there could be dire consequences."

"Such as..?" _Was I asking Malfoy to talk me into snogging him?_ "Plus, I don't have a _crush_ on you. Not anymore."

He ignored my final comment, "Such as my aunt or father killing you." His bluntness stung me, but I responded swiftly, "But not your mother." He smirked, "No, not her, she only wants me to be happy. That and for this entire war to be over."

"So I would make you happy?" It was my turn to smirk so I sat back in my chair and enjoyed it.

"I suppose you would. You aren't always doom and gloom like most people are these days." He shrugged.

"You're always doom and gloom." I pointed out.

"Yes, but I have reason to be."

"Which would be?" I leaned forward and mirrored his position.

"Well, let's think. My father has been sent to Azkaban, my mother is immensely unhappy, my aunt is an insane, masochistic monster. And, a slightly more mundane reason, but still a contributing factor, I am taking nine NEWT classes, only topped by you. Can you think of anything else?" I was silent. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't take my frustration out on you."

I feigned shock, "Are you apologizing?"

"I told you, I'm not all bad." He smirked.

"We've gotten off topic." I giggled, "So where does all this leave us?"

"Friends?" He cocked his head.

"Friends." I nodded.

**A.N.**Review! Review! Review!


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Snape's pairings were to last for the entire year, so it was a good thing Malfoy and I had decided to operate on good terms since Snape adored partner essays. Malfoy's room became our workspace. It was actually rather conveniently located, when you weren't doubling back and going as far out of your way as possible to ensure no one was following you. The room was just off of the corridor that led to the Ravenclaw common room.

We had at first been working in the library alongside many of the other partner pairs, but when Ron began asking me to write his half of his paper over and over again Malfoy stood and pulled me by the wrist to the comfortable living room he had created. It was there that we truly became friends, not just in name.

I offered to tutor him in Herbology, a class he despised and was therefore nearly failing. In return, he offered to teach me to fly, an offer I had to forcibly decline, earning hearty laughter from him. The unexpected sound made me giggle along.

"Draco?" I asked. We had switched to first names around a week ago, "I have a question." I hesitated, even after he nodded, looking up from his Charms homework.

"Well, out with it Hermione." He demanded with a smile.

"I was wondering…" I thought back to the first time we were in this room together over two months ago, "Well, you said you're mother would be happy if you were happy…" I paused again, letting this sink in, "Could you tell me about her? It's just I've never met her and I've met your father and your aunt and…" _How do I phrase this…_ "I just want to know where _you_ come from." Draco froze, just staring at me for a moment, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."

"No. You have the right to know," he stood from his chair and crossed to the bookshelves. He pulled out a think book before sitting in the love seat beside me. He opened the book to a page in the middle, "This book contains the Malfoy family tree and those of the families connected to it. It magically updates itself and cannot be altered. Therefore it is the truest record in existence." He paused, flipping back a few pages, "It also gives short biographies." I looked down at the page he had opened to. There was a picture of a young Narcissa Malfoy. "She was twenty in this picture, she had just married my father." He flipped the page over. Two beautiful, young witches smiled up at me, "Her two older sisters. Bellatrix and Andromeda." He heard my intake of breath, "It will shock you to know that at one point, the three were very similar. Andromeda was the only one with the courage to remain that way. Bellatrix and my mother were both forced into loveless marriages. Bella was more pliable than my mother and quickly adapted to fit the expectations of the Lestrange family. She became very close with Voldemort, as you know, with dire consequences.

"When Bella was sixteen she began running in circles with death eaters and became wrapped up in blood purity, an ideal that had been drilled into her since birth. She met _him_ at age eighteen, as soon as she left Hogwarts. She fell in love with Voldemort with everything she was. Problem was he did not reciprocate the feelings. He tortures his followers too, you know, not just his enemies. Can you imagine what the Cruciatis Curse is like when administered by someone you love? It drove her absolutely mad. That's why she is the way she is. That's what she used to be. She was twenty-five, that was about twenty years ago." He pointed to the picture and I allowed myself to truly look.

The witch definitely was Bellatrix. It was obvious in her dark eyes and flawless pale skin that cloaked her features. The difference between Bellatrix past and Bellatrix present was that Bellatrix past looked happy, healthy. Her smile looked like one that would light up the room. She was beautiful with her long, ebony curls and her striking black eyes. The young Bellatrix was a long cry from the Bellatrix from the Daily Prophet and the Department of Mysteries. My observations were cut short by Draco flipping the page back to his mother's portrait.

"My mother was a different case entirely. She was the youngest of the three sisters and naturally looked up to both of them, but she was particularly fond of Andromeda. When Andromeda ran away, my mother turned to Bellatrix, but my aunt turned my mother away since the elder was already busy running about with her new _friends_. So my mother was alone and her parents were able to push her into a marriage with my father, one of the remaining pureblood families that the Blacks had yet to unite with.

"Because of the union my mother get a – how do the muggles say it – a bum rap? Anyway, my mother is labeled as a Malfoy, when in reality she is the farthest from it. She actually cared for me when I was a baby instead of hiring a nanny and a wet nurse as was Malfoy custom. She would read to me and it was she who taught me to ride a broom, not my father." I could see Draco's eyes glazing over as he thought of his mother, "She protects me, even when it harms her to do so. I personally believe my father is afraid of her." He chucked, "Malfoy men are taught to handle many things while growing up, but a strong minded witch is not one of them."

"But you get along with me just fine." I spoke for the first time.

"Ah yes. But I'm not a Malfoy man, not really. I had a completely different upraising than was customary. Hell, the sorting hat talked about putting me in Ravenclaw and even mentioned Gryffindor once or twice. I had to beg it for Slytherin, and even then it didn't indulge me. Not to mention, I grew up with my mother, you remind me of her in a way. I bet the two of you would get along splendidly."

Through the open window a spring breeze flew in turning the pages of Malfoy's book. I glanced down to see another picture of Bellatrix, once again smiling up at us, but it was strange, for on the opposite side was a picture of Draco and the bright blue eyes.

"Draco, why is Bellatrix featured twice?" I asked, pointing to the picture.

"Because that's not Bella. It's my cousin." I contemplated this.

"But Tonks is an only child. And Bellatrix wouldn't-?" The look on his face left me completely stunned. Never in a million years could I imagine Bellatrix carrying a baby around in her stomach for nine months. "Bellatrix has a daughter?"

"Yes. She's turning sixteen in a few weeks actually."

"Well! Why have I never seen her? She must go to Hogwarts!" Bellatrix had a daughter none of us new about. This was a huge deal! I had to tell Harry and Ron!

"Actually, she doesn't. She's sort of a family secret, or as some see it, the family disgrace, so you must promise not to tell _anyone_." I nodded vigorously, "She never exhibited any Magical powers when she was growing up, so she was never sent to Hogwarts. Her name is Olivia. She's a squib and my best friend."

"So there is another Lestrange…" I pondered.

"Rodulphus isn't her father, but that is a story for another day, dear." He rose from the loveseat to place the book back in its place, "It's almost past curfew."

* * *

"So Hermione." Ron drawled angrily, "How are your dates with the ferret going?"

While Harry had grudgingly accepted my friendship with Draco based on the keep your friends close and your enemies closer mantra, Ron had bitterly opposed the friendship from the start. He stood by his belief that all Malfoys are "spoiled, rotten gits that cannot help but become death eaters since they have no spines of their own."

"They aren't dates, Ronald." I sighed for the billionth time, "We study together."

"We used to study together." Ron whined into his porridge.

"Yes, but Draco doesn't pester me to write his papers for him." I bit back before stuffing some eggs into my mouth.

"Harry!" My eyes followed the group of girls passing by, "That's Katie! Katie Bell!" The Gryffindor chaser had been cursed by an evil necklace she had been transporting to Professor Dumbledore. Harry rushed to her side once he understood, interrogating her about who gave her the necklace, who he was still certain was Malfoy. Harry returned disappointed, but soon perked up.

"'Mione. Where is your friend going?" I turned in my seat to see Draco hurriedly leaving the hall, with a heaping plate of food where I knew he had been sitting. "'Mione, come with me."

I stood with Harry and followed him out and up to a fourth floor boys' bathroom. Harry walked in while I waited against the wall. _Certainly the boys would get along. After all, they had both accepted my friendship with the other. _But my hopes were quickly dashed when I heard smashing and shouting.

I burst in the door just as the boys shouted their final curses. Harry dodged Draco's curse, but Draco wasn't so lucky. He collapsed to the ground just around the corner. Harry and I slowly advanced with his wand out, despite my pleas to lower it. The sight that met us made even my bones cold. Draco sprawled across the ground with a gurgling sound coming from his throat along with sobs. I dropped to my knees in the pool of water mixed with blood, gazing down at his shredded white shirt. Draco was bleeding. A lot. His skin continued to pale, which was something since he was already quite pale to begin with.

"Hermione! Do something!" Harry pleaded.

"Get a teacher!" I yelled, pulling my wand from its sheath.

"Hermione, if they find him I-" _Would get in much deserved trouble. I told you to get rid of that book before something like this happened. Not the __**time**__ Hermione._ "Levitate him. We're bringing him up to the tower. I'll heal him there, my roommates won't be back for a while." I put a temporary healing charm on him along with a hasty disillusionment charm to make him blend in with his surroundings.

Harry and I scurried up the flights of stairs to our tower with Malfoy floating, nearly invisible, beside us. Everyone else still sat in the Great Hall, completely oblivious to the Slytherin being rushed to Gryffindor tower. Being ever astute as I was, I knew none of my roommates would be returning to the tower for quite a while, giving me ample time to handle Malfoy.

"Follow close, Harry." I instructed as I led the boys into the forbidden realm of the girls' dormitory. Upon entering the room Harry asked, "Where are the beds?"

I had seen the boys' dorms, so I knew why he was confused. While the boys shared a room among the five in their year, the girls only shared a hallway and bathroom with the rest of the year. Though our rooms were small, we each had our own and were free to decorate it as we wished. I had done well with mine if I did say so myself.

"Lay him down on the bed." I ordered Harry, crossing the room to a set of cabinets.

"Holy Merlin, Hermione. Why is it so _big_?" Harry stared around the room.

I smiled mischievously, "I am a witch Harry!"

It had taken me the first three months of the school year to perfect the room. With a few expansion charms and several conjuration spells I had recreated my room from home, except with red and gold rather than light blue and white. With all my work, the room now stood around the size of the boys' shared room complete with a small bathroom off to the side. In the center of the room stood a golden-metal bed with gauzy red fabric gathered at each of the four posters, ready to obscure the bed with its deep maroon covers. I had cast a spell so that when the fabric was released it would immediately turn opaque unless told otherwise, something I appreciated during the late spring when everyone left her door open in hopes of catching some cool breeze from somewhere. In the corner by the window looking out across the sprawling Hogwarts lawn leading to the Black Lake stood a white wooden desk stacked high with rolls of parchment and quills just beside completely stocked bookshelves.

I retuned from my cabinet with several potions in hand, ready to treat the boy, now completely visible and freshly bleeding, lying across my bed. "Harry, you need to get to class. I'll handle it." Harry fled the room, thanking me profusely and leaving me alone, in my bedroom, with a bloody and torn Draco Malfoy.

I got straight to work, coaxing potions down his throat and holding him down when he began to convulse slightly as a side effect of one of the healing potions. I traced his cuts with my wand, healing him once over with spells I knew and then repeating with Latin words that should yield a healing charm, some did, others did nothing.

Around an hour later, when students would be leaving the Great Hall for their classes, I was finally satisfied and allowed myself to sink into a firm bean bag I had brought with me from home. I sighed, realizing how completely exhausted I was, I allowed my eyes to drift and they fell on Draco's sleeping form. I began tracing his body with my eyes, beginning at his large, strong hands, leading up a bandaged forearm and tightly muscled bicep. His other hand rested on his toned stomach, topped by his muscled pecks. _Quidditch had done him well_. I finally let my tired eyes drift to his face. There was a certain tranquility to the way his soft pink lips parted slightly with his quite breathing. His nose was straight and regal, just as what was expected of the sole Malfoy heir, while his eye lashes fanned across his cheekbones. I smiled as I slowly drifted off to sleep.

**Draco's POV**

I knew this feeling. I had witnessed the feeling only a few times before. It was the aftershock of the Cruciatus that plagued my body for the moment. But the strange thing was it only plagued me for a moment, not for the hours it was supposed to. I tried to move my fingers; they twitched over something soft. Next my feet, they nocked together. I permitted my eyelids to flutter open, revealing the red-tinged world before me. At first I worried, but then I saw the sleeping brunette in the beanbag and suddenly I realized: I was in here room judging by the reds, on her bed.

Sitting up slowly, I hissed when I felt thin wires constrict over my chest, falling back down onto the soft pillow. My groans forced the girl to stir and soon her eyelids were flickering open, "Draco! You're awake!" She was by my side with two steps, sitting beside me, "How do you feel?"

"Did you tie me down?" Did she trust me so little she would wire me to the bed? I had thought we were becoming friends.

"No. You must be talking about those." She ghosted one finger in a zig-zag pattern over my chest, drawing my attention to an angry red line following the same shape.

"What in the blood hell happened to me?" I roared, perhaps a bit too forcefully considering our proximity and the idea that I was in a different house's dormitory in a member of the opposite sex's room.

"You and Harry got into a pretty heated fight in the boys' lavatory…" She prefaced and suddenly it came rushing back to me.

The stress had finally begun to get to me and I couldn't hold it anymore so when Potter intruded on my pity party I retaliated the only way I knew how and she knew it. I only hoped that she could forgive me for it.

"So you know-" I wanted to thresh out hear mind to learn what she knew and what she thought of her newfound knowledge.

"I know you tried to use an unforgivable on Harry." She stated bluntly, her glare penetrating me in a way I didn't know was possible, but she didn't move away and kept her finger tracing the pattern of my new scar, "What I want to know is why?"

"He startled me." That was the truth, "I had thought he was-" I clamped my mouth shut.

"Who?" She leaned closer. Her fingers stopped tracing and her palm lay flat against my midsection.

"I thought he was Snape come to lecture me." I growled after a moment's hesitation.

"Why would you curse Professor Snape?" Her eyes were laced with confusion, "You always seemed to be close." She paused when I didn't respond, but then she continued, "Draco? What's going on?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." My voice was too high and my response too quick.

"You come to school healthy then after a matter of weeks you begin to whither away. You constantly look sick and frail and now you are trying to curse professors while they use the loo? And don't give me the stressed about school work, you and I both know you are not only caught up, but well ahead in each of your classes."

I wanted to tell her so badly. I needed someone to know that it wouldn't be my fault, that _he_ was making me. This was the first time I had realized how much this Muggle born actually meant to me. She was kind and smart and brave and – dare I say it?- beautiful. I didn't need _someone_ to know it wasn't my fault. I needed _her_ to know he forced me to do it. But I couldn't tell her, it would kill her and put her in even greater danger than she already was.

"There is absolutely nothing wrong with me." I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood, ignoring the head rush. "Thank you for your aid and I'd appreciate if you didn't mention this to anyone." I did not wait for her response but instead I stormed from the room and out of the tower.

I would only be in school for two more weeks before I did it, I could survive one week of seeing _her_ and pretending I hate her.


End file.
